Love's Last Chance
by ArkansasPrincess72482
Summary: This story is kind of a crossover between Gilmore Girls & one of my favorite movies, Excess Baggage. Paris Gellar is a rich, 16 year old girl, going to the best school and trying to do anything to prove to herself that her mother loves her. Tristan Dugra
1. Parents & Cars

* * *

Title: Love's Last Chance

Summary: This story is a crossover between Gilmore Girls & one of my favorite movies, Excess Baggage. Paris Gellar is a rich, 16 year old girl, going to the best school and trying to do anything to prove to herself that her mother loves her. Tristan Dugray is a 20 year old man following the wrong paths in life. Can they save each other? Paris/Tristan

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Gilmore Girls or Excess Baggage. The quote at the beginning of this story is by Robert Herrick.

Give me a kiss, add to that kiss a score;

Then to that twenty, add a hundred more:

A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on,

To make that thousand up a million.

Treble that million, and when that is done,

Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun.

Robert Herrick

Paris Gellar sat in class, pulling unconsciously at her tight french braid as Mr. Medina explained the weekend assignment. Her best friend, Rory Gilmore was sitting directly behind her taking notes furiously. Paris stared at Mr. Medina thinking back on the short time that Rory's mother, Loralie had dated Mr. Medina. Paris's mother was too prim and proper to date a teacher. Yes, Mrs. Eliza Gellar would think that a teacher was below her but the truth was Mr. Medina was too good for Eliza Gellar. An angry look came to Paris's face as she remembered when her father, Kevin Gellar had left them. Paris's father had been the perfect man for Eliza. He was responsible, rich, handsome and willing to pay Eliza any amount to make sure he would never have to talk to or see his daughter again. Dear old dad had been so concerned about Paris's reputation that he had moved as far a way as he possibly could.

A hand on Paris's shoulder made her jump and she looked up to see Rory standing beside her.

Rory stared down at her friend, completely aware of the confused look on her friend's face. Like everyday, in every class, Paris was lost in her own thoughts again and Rory knew exactly what the other girl was thinking.

"The bell rang," Rory said, recieving a look of acknowledgement from Paris. Paris followed Rory out of class and down the hall to their lockers.

"Thinking about your parents again?" Rory asked as she tried her locker combination once without any success. Paris glanced at Rory, a look of annoyance coming to her face that Rory had come to expect from Paris.

"Sometimes I wish you didn't know me so well," Paris said, hitting her locker with the palm of hand to make it open. Rory stared in amazement at Paris's open locker before trying her combination again.

"Okay. Change of subject," Rory said, finally opening her locker, "how do you make sure you get that locker every year?"

"I break into Headmaster Charleston's office," Paris said, making Rory stare at her in shock, "just once, every year." Paris flashed a smile at Rory before turning away and making her way down the hall toward the front entrance of the school.

Tristan Dugray opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling in the hotel room he was staying in. Just one more car. That's all he needed and then he could leave the country. He already knew what he wanted to do. He was going to go to Cancun and open a little surf shop right by the ocean and spend the rest of his life relaxing and soaking up the sun. His eyes sparkled as he remembered the car he had seen earlier that day, a cherry red porche. It was, of course the car he was looking for. He smiled when he remembered the rich, blonde girl who had gotten out of the car. She had to be around sixteen years old. Her hair had been braided so tight that he thought she probably had a headache. She was cute though. The uniform that she wore was just like the uniforms on all the other girls walking toward the school but she stood out.

Tristan sat up quickly and ran his fingers through his hair as he reached around in the dark room for his muscle shirt. He couldn't let his mind wander when he had a job to do. Tristan quickly took out the small piece of paper with the girls address and name on it.

Paris Gellar

117 Magnolia Drive

Hartford, Connecticut

"Sorry, Paris," Tristan said, smiling as he made his way out the door of the hotel room.

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Thanks for reading my story. Please let me know your honest opinions.

Lisa


	2. Runaways & Theifs

MrSchimpf-Thank you. I was trying to think of an original way where Paris and Tristan would make a good couple together because I have really always thought that they belonged together, not Tristan and Rory.

* * *

Paris finished putting on the loose pair of khakis and the black sweater she had taken out of her closet before she climbed into the shower. Her mom was out again on another date with a man that Paris knew would be like all the others and be gone in less than forty-eight hours. Paris grabbed the brown jacket off her bed and slipped it on before picking up the black leather duffel bag off of her bed and walking out her bedroom door. She hadn't been happy with herself for not telling Rory about her plans but she knew that if Rory knew, Loralie would know and Loralie wouldn't lie to another parent. Eliza Gellar couldn't care less if her daughter was gone but Paris needed money too. She stopped in the front hallway to read through the letter in her pocket that she planned to leave stuck in the door.

We have your daughter.

We want one million dollars and we will return her safely.

You will be called later with all the details.

Paris smiled at the sloppy hand-writing. She had gotten a drunk, college guy to write it for her at one of Louise's parties. She had given him one hundred dollars to do it. She had met the guy once before when he was sober so she knew he was an idiot and wouldn't be able to figure out what she was doing anyway.

After leaving the letter stuck in the door Paris made her way out to her red porsche. She had just opened the trunk of the car and tossed her duffel bag into the back when she saw the headlights at the end of the driveway. Paris panicked for the first time in her life that she could remember, afraid that the headlights she saw belonged to her mother's car, Paris quickly climbed into the trunk of her own car, shut the trunk. Paris suddenly realized that her mother would see the car and find the letter so Paris would have to leave without her car.

Tristan glanced out the passenger side window at the long driveway and the huge house.

"Don't forget to have that car with the other ones by tomorrow night. That's when their coming to pick the cars up," the dark-haired young man in the driver's seat reminded Tristan. Tristan, never even glancing at the other man as he opened the door and started walking up the driveway toward the house.Tristan smiled as he reached the driver's side door of the porsche. This was the last time he woud have to take orders from lazy, rich guys.

He took his time unlocking the car door and sliding into the driver's seat. His smile broadened as he ran his hands over the white, leather steering wheel. The whole interior of the car was beautiful. A few paper cups littered the floorboard but besides that the car was spotless.

He quickly reached down and hotwired the car, running his hands through his hair as he thought that this would probably be the last time he would ever drive a car like that.

"Alright, baby, let's go," Tristan whispered as he shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the driveway.

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Alright, here is chapter 2. Please review even if you don't like the story and I could really use a beta reader so if anyone is interested please let me know :) 


	3. In The Trunk

Paris stared at the closed hood above her, silently panicking as she felt the car moving. She couldn't think of anyone who would be driving her car. She reached her hand in her pocket and pulled her keys out. Whoever was driving had to have started it without the keys. She found herself hoping that the person in the driver's seat was her mother. It was the only time she could ever remember actually wanting her mother to be in her car.

As Paris lay there panicking she began to realize the truth and that made her angry. Someone had stolen her car. Paris glared up at the closed lid of the trunk as she remembered the gorgeous blonde guy who had seemed to be watching her from across the street at school earlier. Had he been looking at the car instead of her? Paris cried out angrily and kicked the trunk lid as hard as she could, panicking all over again when the car slowed down and came to a stop.

* * *

Tristan switched the key off and climbed out of the car. He gave the car one last look before walking over to a desk in the corner. He reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a printed out piece of paper with a list of cars on it. He slowly moved his finger down the list until he saw what he was looking for. He reached back into the drawer and pulled out a pencil to mark the last car off the list.

Tristan stood up and made his way over to the phone on the wall. He quickly dialed and waited patiently as the phone rang. After twelve rings the ringing finally stopped.

"Yeah?" the man on the other end of the line answered sleepily.

"It's me," Tristan replied, "I got the car." Tristan heard a shuffling noise on the other end of the line and he figured that the man on the other end of the line had went into another room.

"Any trouble?" the man asked.

"No. It was just like all the other ones," Tristan responded, turning around with the phone held next to his ear, looking at the car.

"Great," the man replied, "meet me back there in the morning at nine."

"Alright. I'll be here," Tristan replied, "and, Jess, how much are we getting for these cars?"

"One hundred thousand per car for fifty cars," Jess replied, "that's about two and a half million for each of us." Tristan smiled to himself as he hung up the phone. Tomorrow night he would have all he needed to have the life he wanted.

* * *

Paris waited until she heard the loud slamming of a door before she began kicking and banging on the trunk lid to try to get it to open. Less than five minutes later she was standing in a huge room surrounded by cars. She glanced around looking for a door or a phone. Her eyes landed on the phone first and she ran quickly over to it and picked up the receiver. She quickly punched in her home phone number and waited for her mother to pick up. She had almost given up when she finally heard her mom's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Eliza Gellar said, sleepily.

"It's me, mom," Paris replied, "I'm scared. I don't know where I am." Paris heard her mother's annoyed sigh on the the other end of the line.

"Paris, really, just have one of your friend's drive you home," Eliza replied, putting an annoyed look on Paris's face.

"Mom!," Paris said, frustrated, "I'm not drunk, I'm kidnapped."

"Oh, yeah, I got that letter," Eliza replied, "I was just too tired to look into it right away." Paris's annoyed expression quickly turned to a shocked expression.

"I'm kidnapped!," Paris screamed, "how could you be too tired to look into that right away?"

"Paris, I'll call the police as soon as I wake up," Eliza said, "are you hurt or anything?"

"No," Paris responded in a softer voice.

"Okay, then we'll have everything taken care of in the morning, goodnight," Eliza replied.

Before Paris could say anything more her mother had hung up the phone. Angry tears came to her eyes as she walked back over to her car, opened one of the back doors and layed down in the seat.

* * *

Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. Please let me know what ya'll think of it and if you like The Covenant please check out my fanfiction for that as well.


	4. First Encounters

A few hours later Paris climbed out of the backseat of the car and walked around the large room, slowly looking at all the cars. It was pretty apparent that she had been right and her car had been stolen. She turned around slowly looking for a door and then saw the huge garage door at the other end of the room. Paris ran as fast she could toward the door and then bent down to try to lift it open. She groaned angrily as she realized that the door had been locked from the outside. Turning around she looked back at her car and smiled as an idea came to mind. She would just get in her car and crash right through the door. She had seen it in movies plenty of times.

After walking quickly back to the car Paris climbed in behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The car purred gently as she pulled the gear shift into drive. Paris swung the car in a wide you turn and began speeding up toward the door. She was halfway their when the car began sputtering. She pressed her foot down harder on the gas to try to make the car go faster but it was no use. The car stopped less than three feet from the door. She had run out of gas.

"What an idiot!" Paris screamed, slamming her fist against the steering wheel before climbing out of the car and walking back toward where the other cars we're parked.

Paris stopped walking suddenly and looked around at all the cars in the room. The angry look did not leave her face as she made her way back to her car. Reaching in the open window she pulled her car keys out of the ignition and keyed every car in the room.

* * *

It was three o'clock in the morning when Rory's cellphone rang. She groaned as she turned over to answer it.

"Hello?" Rory asked, how tired she was apparent in her voice.

"I need help, Rory. I've been kidnapped," Paris replied, hiding behind her car and staring at the door.

"Paris?" Rory asked, "that's not funny." Paris sighed, knowing she sounded annoyed but not caring because she really was annoyed.

"It's not a joke," Paris said, "I called my mom last night but she wouldn't do anything until later today and I'm not even sure if she'll do anthing then." Rory sat up in bed, convinced by the worried tone in Paris's voice.

"Where are you?" Rory asked, glancing at her alarm clock.

"I don't know. Some kind of warehouse," Paris answered, "We only went a few miles from my house, I think but I can't get out because the doors locked."

"Okay. Are you on your cellphone?" Rory asked, "didn't they check you for a phone?" Paris sighed in annoyance again.

"I was in the trunk," Paris replied, "I don't know why they didn't open it and take my phone."

"Oh," Rory replied, "Well, I will have mom call the police and tell them what you told me. Call me back if they take you anywhere." Paris's eyes grew wide. She hadn't thought of being taken anywhere else.

"I won't go," Paris replied, stubbornly, "just get the police." Paris hung up the phone and continued to stare at the door.

* * *

Tristan unlocked the back door and walked quickly into the warehouse. He froze when he noticed the car he had stolen the night before so close to the garage door. He walked slowly into the middle of the warehouse and his jaw dropped in shock as his eyes noticed the scratches on the cars. He had just started to walk over and get a closer look of the first car when the owner of the porsche jumped up from the other side and stared at him.

"Why did you take my car!?" Paris yelled, "let me go!" Tristan stared over the car at her, a shocked expression on his face.

"How did you get in here?" Tristan asked, trying to remain calm.

"You kidnapped me, stupid," Paris answered him.

"I what?" Tristan asked, completely surprised by the accusation, "what do you mean?"

"I was in the trunk!" Paris screamed. Tristan's shock was replaced with annoyance.

"What we're you doing in the trunk in the first place?" Tristan asked.

"How is that your business?" Paris asked, "it's my car, isn't it?"

"Not anymore," Tristan replied, forcing himself to smirk at her. He didn't want her to know that he was worried about her seeing his face or anything else, "these cars are leaving tonight to be sold and I will try to get enough time to replace the paint jobs you ruined."

"Well, I hope who ever you stole these cars for won't give you anymore time," Paris replied, returning his smirk, "how much trouble would you get into anyway?" Tristan ignored her question and pulled a rope out of his back pocket before making his way around the car towards her.

"I was going to use this rope to rope the back door shut until I can get a new lock but I can see that I'm going to need it more for you," Tristan replied, running after her as she turned and began running toward the way she had seen him come. She had just turned the corner when he knocked her down and held her down with his side while he tied her hands behind her back.

"That was stupid," he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet, "don't do it again."


	5. Hiding Evidence

Paris tugged on the ropes that we're tied around her hands as she looked around the small office she was sitting in. It had probably only been an hour since the guy who stole her car had tied her to the chair but it felt like it had been days. She was thirsty and she had to use the bathroom. She remembered calling him every name she could think of as he dragged her up the stairs into the office. It had annoyed her so much when he had just smiled at her and walked back out of the room. If she ever got loose she planned to make him wish he had never even noticed her car.

* * *

Tristan pushed open the back door to the warehouse with Jess right behind him.

"Alright, so what's the problem?" Jess said as he stepped into the room. His jaw dropped as he started notices the scratches on all the cars.

"That's not the problem," Tristan replied, noticing the look on Jess's face.

"Are you crazy?" Jess asked, looking at Tristan with an annoyed look on his face, "these people aren't going to pay good money for these cars now!"

"I can fix it," Tristan replied, "I know this guy..."

"You want to bring a stranger in here to fix paint jobs on stolen cars?!" Jess screamed, he couldn't believe Tristan could be so stupid, "how did this happen anyway?"

"We don't have a choice," Tristan replied, "I know the guy, his name's Dean. He won't care." Jess let out an annoyed sigh.

"Alright, fine but how did this happen?" Jess asked.

"Well, that's where the problem comes in," Tristan replied, "You know the red porcshe?"

"Yeah," Jess nodded toward the car sitting just a few feet away from them, "what about it?"

"The owner was in the trunk," Tristan replied. Tristan could see the angry look on Jess' s face but Jess controlled his anger as he walked over to the car, glanced inside and then looked back at Tristan.

"Is the owner still there?" Jess asked. Tristan shook his head and motioned toward the office door. Jess instantly moved away from the car and started walking quickly toward the office door. Tristan followed close behind him. Jess swung open the door and stepped inside.

"Not bad," Jess commented as he checked Paris out. Paris glared at Jess as he walked farther into the room.

"Not even in your dreams," Paris remarked. Jess glared at her while Tristan smirked at her comment.

"You got to get her out of here," Jess replied as he stepped out of the room. Tristan's smirk disappeared as fast as it had came as he followed Jess out of the office and shut the door.

"Where should I take her?" Tristan asked, following Jess across the room to the back door.

"I don't care," Jess replied, "just make sure she doesn't get back in town before tomorrow night, that will give me plenty of time to get these cars out of here."

"Okay," Tristan replied, "I'll take her upstate."

"Alright. Meet me at the ski lodge in two days so we can split the money," Jess said.

* * *

Paris fought Tristan all the way outside to the nineteen-eighty corvette that was parked in the back of the warehouse. Tristan untied her hands and fought against her to get her hands tied back to the gear shift before she could get many good hits in.

"Your crazy, you know that?" Tristan asked as he climbed into the driver's seat of the car and started the engine.

"Let me go," Paris said, glaring over at him, "give me my car and let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Your not getting your car back. You might as well get used to that," Tristan said, "as for letting you go, I don't think so. Fortunately, I'm not as crazy as you are."

"Wanna bet?" Paris asked, as she stared out the passenger side window of the car.

* * *

Rory glanced around nervously as she sat in the police station waiting for information about Paris. Loralie had went to call Paris's mom earlier but hadn't had much luck. Eliza had just told Loralie that she would take care of the problem later.

Rory stood up as a cop in his early twenties came walking over to her. She recognized him as one of the cops who had been sent out to check out some of the warehouse's around Paris's house.

"Miss Gilmore?" the office asked, Rory nodded and the office continued, "I'm officer Huntzberger."

"Have you found anything?" Rory asked.

"No, ma'am," Officer Huntzberger replied, "there are quite a few vacant warehouses close to Miss Gellar's home and it could take us awhile to find anything."

"Well, I guess I'll just wait around until you do," Rory replied. The officer smiled sympathetically but shook his head.

"Miss there really isn't any point in you having to stay around here," Officer Huntzberger said, "we will call you if we find anything."

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Well, there is chapter 5. I'm trying to use all the characters for the show as extra characters in the story. Let me know if ya'll like the way they fit in.


	6. Ski Lodge

"Where are you taking me!?" Paris screamed as Tristan pulled the car out of the warehouse and began speeding down a backstreet.

"Somewhere away from here," Tristan replied, making a sharp right turn, "why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"You want me to try to get some sleep alone in this car with you?" Paris asked, laughing sarcastically.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Tristan replied, staring staight ahead as he made another sharp turn.

"Why don't you just take me back home?" Paris replied, "I won't tell anyone and you can keep the car." Tristan rolled his eyes as he turned down a dirt road on the outskirts of the town.

"I'm not taking that chance, sorry," he replied. Paris sighed loudly and leaned her head back against the seat.

It was still dark outside when the car coming to a stop woke Paris up. She glanced out the window and saw the lights from the convenience store the car was parked beside. She chanced a glance at the driver's side and groaned when she noticed that even though Tristan wasn't in the car, the keys were not in the ignition.

Tristan stood at the counter paying for the chips and coke he had came in for when the news on the small tv caught his attention. He tried to hide the surprised look on his face when he saw Paris's car being reported as stolen. He quickly paid for the food and walked back out of the store to climb back inside the car. He started the car and drove off.

"I just saw your car posted on tv as stolen ," Tristan whispered, barely loud enough for Paris to hear him.

"That's too bad," Paris answered, "I hope you get caught."

"I did not kidnap you," Tristan replied through his teeth.

"Who's going to believe you?" Paris shot back, smiling out the passenger side window.

"Can you call someone for me and explain what happened?" Tristan asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice for having to ask her for anything.

"No, I don't think I can," Paris responded.

"I'll give you your car back," Tristan answered, the desperation noticable in his voice.

"Okay," Paris answered, plotting her next move as she stared out the window.

* * *

Paris climbed out of the car and followed Tristan into the ski lodge. She waited on a huge leather sofa as he checked in.

As they walked into the room they were staying in, Tristan pointed toward the phone on the bedside table.

"Make that phone call," he said, annoyance still in his voice, "I'm going to get the bags. Don't do anything stupid."

* * *

Rory answered the phone after the third ring.

"Hello," Rory said, waiting impatiently for the answering voice.

"Rory?" Paris asked, "it's me. I know where I am."

"Where?!" Rory asked, excitedly searching her desk for a pen.

"I'm up north at a ski lodge called South Ridge," Paris replied quickly, listening carefully for Tristan's footsteps outside the door.

"Okay," Rory answered, "are you still in the state?"

"I'm not sure," Paris replied, glancing nervously toward the door.

"We'll find you," Rory replied.

"Okay," Paris answered, "I have to go. I hear him coming back now."

Tristan walked back through the door just as Paris hung up the phone.

"Everything cool?" he asked, sitting the bags down at the foot of the bed.

"Perfect," Paris answered.

* * *

Well, here is the next chapter. Please review and let me know what you think :)


	7. First Kiss

Rory picked up her phone and dialed Paris's mom's cell phone number slowly. Maybe if she just told her mom where Paris was she would get the police to go get her. After what seemed like hours Eliza Gellar sleepily answered the phone.

"Hello?" Eliza answered, sounding slightly annoyed at being woken up.

"Mrs. Gellar?" Rory began, "this is Rory Gilmore. I just got a phone call from Paris and I know where she is."

"So do I," Eliza answered, more annoyance noticable in her voice, "she's out somewhere trying to convince everyone she's been kidnapped."

"She has been," Rory responded, a shocked expression coming on her face at the lack of Paris's mom's concern, "aren't you worried?" Rory heard Eliza's loud sigh on the other end of the line.

"Fine, Miss Gilmore. Where is she?" Eliza asked crankily.

"She's at a ski lodge up north called South Ridge," Rory responded and then waited patiently while Eliza pretended to write down the name of the lodge.

"Alright. I'll call the police right away," Eliza stated before hanging up the phone.

* * *

Paris lay on her stomach on the queen size bed in the room watching some rerun of a reality show on the television when there was a knock at the door. Tristan stood up from the stool he had been sitting on at the bar to go answer the door. Jess pushed past Tristan and glanced around the room. His eyes stopped on Paris.

"What is she doing here, Tristan?" Jess asked, annoyance clear in his voice. Paris glared up at him.

"I'm keeping him out of trouble," Paris replied, glancing quickly at Tristan.

"Apparently your not doing a very good job," Jess answered, returning her glare before glancing back toward Tristan, "You were supposed to just drop her off somewhere and get the car back."

"The car was on the news," Tristan replied as he walked back over to the stool beside the bar.

"That's what happens when they get stolen" Jess answered.

"They would have found me," Tristan stated, "she saw my face." Jess looked back over at Paris and sighed. He didn't like it. Even if Tristan did have a point.

"So what are you going to do about her?" Jess asked.

"Give her car back to her and send her home," Tristan responded matter-of-factly.

"We can't do that!" Jess answered, "we'll never find another car just like it in time."

"Not my problem," Paris responded. Jess shot her another glare.

"Would you shut up?" Jess asked her. Paris smirked at the television but kept her mouth shut for the rest of the conversation.

* * *

Tristan took a big drink out of the bottle of vodka he was holding and passed it back to Paris.

"You shouldn't bother Jess so much" Tristan stated, "he's just worried, for good reason."

"He's such a jerk" Paris responded, "what's so important about my car anyway?" Tristan grabbed the vodka back and took a long drink.

"Let's just say the guy who was going to buy the car isn't someone you want to make mad" Tristan responded.

"Oh, that kind of person" Paris responded. Tristan watched her for a minute as she stared at the television.

"So, why did you lock yourself in the trunk?" Tristan asked.

"It's kind of personal" Paris said, not wanting to tell Tristan her real reason.

"It's okay" Tristan responding, glancing at the empty liquor bottles all over the floor, "I probably wouldn't remember it anyway." Paris glanced down at the floor and laughed.

"I guess your right" Paris replied, "I don't get along with my mom. She's a very stuck up rich woman. My father is the kind of guy who sends money so he doesn't have to see me."

"I'm sorry" Tristan responded, "but why leave?"

"I guess I just wanted a little proof" Paris said, "you know, that they love me."

"Think your going to get it?" he asked.

"No, I'm pretty sure I won't." Paris responded, reaching over and taking the vodka bottle out of his hands.

"Are you always a big drinker?" Tristan asked, smiling at her.

"Only when I'm depressed " Paris said, "so yeah." Tristan laughed as she took another long drink from the bottle.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Tristan asked, glancing over at her.

"No" Paris responded, "do you have a girlfriend?"

"I've never really had time for that" Tristan responded, taking the vodka bottle out of Paris's hand and sitting it on the bedside table, "would you get mad if I kissed you?" Paris glanced down at her hands quickly. Not sure if she wanted him to or not.

"I don't know" she responded slowly. Tristan reached over and slipped his fingertips under her chin to make her look at him.

"I wouldn't think anything could make you blush" he replied before pressing his lips against hers. Tristan slowly began to lower her back on the bed and Paris found herself returning his kiss. They were both breathless when Tristan pulled back a little and removed his shirt. Paris let her eyes move to his arms and then over his chest and stomach. Tristan smiled and leaned down over her to kiss her again. Paris closed her eyes as he kissed her deeper. At that moment she felt more cared about than she had ever felt before.

* * *

Alright. There's the next chapter. Hope ya'll like it.


	8. Busted

Paris pushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Tristan was waiting in the room for her to be ready to go to breakfast. She hadn't wanted to move away from him. She had slept with her head on his shoulder almost all night. She quickly grabbed the hair dryer and started drying her hair.

* * *

Tristan grabbed his shirt off of the back of a chair and slipped it over his head. He had just turned off the television when Paris walked out of the bathroom. When he met her eyes she smiled at him despite the slight blush he saw creeping across her cheeks.

"You ready" Tristan asked. When she nodded he walked over and opened the door for her. Paris stepped out in front of him and he stared after her for a second as she made her way to the elevator. He knew he shouldn't have kissed her. She was too young for him but there was just something about her that he just couldn't help but like. A part of him had wanted to kiss her the minute he had seen her in front of the school but he had never thought he actually would. He walked quickly to reach her as she stopped in front of the elevator and turned back to look at him.

Paris and Tristan stepped out of the elevator and started making their way across the lobby. They were halfway to the breakfast room when Paris stopped suddenly. The woman standing at the desk talking to the manager was her mother. Paris grabbed Tristan's arm before he could take another step.

"My mom's here" Paris whispered. A look of alarm came over Tristan's face as his eyes quickly scanned the lobby.

"Where is she?" Tristan asked without looking down at Paris. Paris glanced up at him and saw the anger on his face. It wouldn't take him long to realize that Paris had told someone where they were.

"At the counter talking to the manager" Paris responded. Tristan glanced at the counter and nodded.

"I have to get out of here" Tristan replied before he turned and started make his way to the lodge entrance. Paris glanced quickly at her mother and then followed Tristan outside.

"What are you doing?" Tristan asked as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Take me with you" Paris said. She felt like she had been slapped when Tristan spun around and glared at her.

"Take you with me?" Tristan asked, annoyance clear in his voice, "haven't you gotten me in enough trouble already?" Tristan gave an impatient glance toward the entrance.

"I'm sorry" Paris answered, "I was mad at you when I made that call."

"That's too bad" Tristan replied. Paris could feel herself becoming angry.

"If you don't want me with you then what was all of that about last night?" Paris asked.

"Last night?" Tristan asked, harshly, "last night was obviously a mistake." Before she could even think of what she was doing Paris slapped him. Tristan didn't even have time to react before his hands were pulled behind his back and a police officer was reading his rights.

* * *

Alright. There's my next chapter. I hope everyone likes it.


	9. Giving In

Paris was laying on her bed in her room talking to Rory. Rory had asked Paris what all had happened so Paris had told her everything. She left out the part where she had laid awake thinking about Tristan every night since he had been arrested in front of the lodge. Half the time she hated him for what he had said to her right before he had been arrested but part of her missed him. Paris was stubborn and didn't want to admit that second part so she just tried to go with just being mad at him.

"So, your saying he didn't kidnap you?" Rory asked. Paris could hear the confusion in her friend's voice and smiled.

"I know it may sound stupid" Paris began, "but I actually thought my mom would worry about me."

"Have you told your mom that you locked yourself in the trunk?" Rory asked.

"Nope" Paris replied, "the car thief deserves everything he gets." Rory sighed because she had been around Paris long enough to realize when her friend was just being mean because she was angry at someone.

"Come on, Paris, you shouldn't let him get charged with something he didn't do" Rory replied. Paris rolled her eyes.

"I have to go" Paris responded, "I'll talk to you later." Paris hung up the phone and made her way out of her room. She walked downstairs and was about to go get something to eat out of the kitchen when she heard her mom call her from the family room. Paris turned away from the door that led into the dining room and made her way into the family room. Eliza Gellar was sitting comfortable on the white leather couch that had been sitting in the family room for only a few months now.

"I wanted to talk to you about the charges against the kidnapper" Eliza stated calmly, "I think my lawer will be able to get Mr. Dugray a long sentence." Paris gave her mom a quick look. She had never heard his last name before.

"How long?" Paris asked.

"As long as possible" Eliza replied, "no one kidnaps my daughter and gets away with it." Paris's laugh slipped out before she could stop it. Her mom was actually sitting here trying to act like she cared.

"Did I say something funny?" Eliza asked, giving Paris an unfriendly look.

"Yes because if it wasn't for Rory you wouldn't have even looked for me" Paris answered, "you might have looked for the car." Eliza stood up from her seat on the couch and glared at Paris.

"How was I supposed to know you had seriously been kidnapped?" Eliza shouted at Paris, "it's not like your always honest with me!" Paris glared at her mom.

"You don't stay around long enough to hear the truth" Paris stated, "Tristan cared more about me than you ever did!"

"Who's Tristan?" Eliza asked, frustrated. Paris sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Dugray, the car thief, mom" Paris replied, "by the way, I locked myself in the trunk. He didn't even know I was there until it was too late." Paris turned around and ran back up the stairs to her room.

* * *

That night while her mom was out Paris left her room and walked down the hall to enter her mom's room. She walked over to her mom's bedside table and pulled out the top drawer. She knew exactly where to look. She felt around the bottom before pulling the long envelope out. She reached in and grabbed the money out of it.

A few minutes later she was sitting in a chair waiting for the police chief to bring Tristan into the room. She had already paid his bail but she had asked the chief not to let him know. She wanted to talk to him first. Her thoughts we're interrupted when an officer opened the door to the small room and let Tristan walk in before he shut the door. Tristan stared at Paris for a long second before he walked over and sat across from her at the small table.

"I've felt like a mistake for most of my life" Paris began, "that's why I wanted to go with you." Tristan ran his fingers through his hair.

"I didn't mean what I said" Tristan replied, "I wanted you with me. I just didn't see how that could happen." Tristan gave her a smile.

"If you could" Paris started, "would you take me with you now?"

"Anywhere you want" Tristan grinned. Paris smiled back at him.

"How does Austrailia sound?" Paris asked. Tristan's grin faded as Paris's smile was replaced by a serious look.

"Austrailia sounds great" Tristan responded. Paris stood up and pushed her chair up to table.

"Then let's go" Paris stated, leading the way to the door. Tristan grinned and followed her out of the Police station.

* * *

A couple hours later they were on a private jet traveling farther and farther away from Connecticut.

"Are you sure your friend won't send the cops after me again?" Tristan asked. Paris laughed and took a sip out of the bottle of water she was drinking.

"I told her what I was doing in a message on her machine" Paris said, "but I didn't tell her where we we're going."

"Your going to get me in so much trouble" Tristan answered, smiling out the window.

"No more than usual" Paris responded, a smirk coming over her face. Tristan turned to her and leaned his face towards here until his lips we're only inches away from hers. He brushed her hair back out of her face with one of his hands.

"Good," Tristan started, "I'm beginning to love trouble." Tristan pressed his lips against hers. Paris stared into his eyes as they kissed. She was right where she was always supposed to be.

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Well there it is. The last chapter. Please review! I want to know what everyone thinks.


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